Monday, Apr. 28, 2003 / 10:19 p.m.

~Here You Go, For My Number One Fans!!

Hi Catie, how's it going? Do you want to know about my day? How many times have you clicked on my diary today? What was it you said to me on your message board??? "since avoiding diary dramas is still my ultimate goal, i will gladly stop reading your diary." Right, that's it. That was so accomodating, too good to be true really.

Guess what? My uncle won't make it for me to go visit him. Do you want to know about his cancer? How it's eating his body? Do you want to know how I feel about losing this last member of my family to mean anything to me? Do you want to know about how I feel? Do you want to know the pain I'm feeling? Do you want to know how I used to be able to come here and write how I felt, and a few people read it, and they wrote to me, and some wrote email, and we became friends, but then people like you decided to come and stalk me, to lurk in the shadows, to harass me? And I asked you to go away and you said sure, no problem, no drama needed, and then you kept coming back for more?

Do you want to know how I feel? Do you want to know how I spent my evening or my day, do you fucking give a shit about me at all other than wanting to rile me, wanting to harass me, wanting to cause me, how did you word it??? "anguish"??

Fuck you, Catie. Fuck you bbtec.net, and fuck you "Korn", telling me I support Hussein, and telling me I'm in favor of dead babies or some such shit, telling me I'm fucking antiwar for the sake of being antiwar, and when I ask you to leave me the fuck alone you come back for more and more and more. You read it all, you skim it, just the one page, you don't check almost 900 entries in my archives, and know why? Because you are here to fuck with me. No other reason. You enjoy this. This is what gets you off.

Well get off, enjoy it, fucking bang yourself until you come all over your fucking keyboard, because this is it. I'm in pain, you want to know about it? No, surely you don't.

Enjoy, just enjoy. Let's just write to you, and only you, dear dear Catie, who means nothing to me, I've never even read more than half of one page of your diary, because I don't care about you. You are obsessed with me, not the other way around. And 'j', or is it Trina Johnson, or is it 'olovo'? Where are you, Japan? You American? Let's all just get to know each other. "Korn" too.

Yeah, I've lost it.

I thought of a great analogy today, you'll like this, you guys, you three. Picture yourself in your house, at night maybe, you look out your window and there is a person standing in front of your house, looking in your windows. You yell out, "Hey, you, what are you doing there?", and the person doesn't answer you, just keeps looking. You close your blinds. But you want to leave them open, let in the night air. You look out again, the person is still there. You tell this person to go away, the person says, "Why? It's a public sidewalk, I can stand here if I want to", and the person stays. You hate this feeling that you're being watched, stalked. You have to close your windows and shut your blinds, your shutters, your shades. And still, when you check to see, yes, the person is still there.

And this goes on for days. Sometimes you think the person is gone, you open the blinds and shades and shutters again, let in the fresh air, you sing as you wash your dishes in the sink just under the kitchen window, but then you see the person there again, on the sidewalk, staring in at you.

This is what it feels like.

What else can I say to please you? Feed me a subject or two since you're running the show. G'head. What shall we talk about next? Give me topics and I'll write. Or, 'j'/Trina Johnson, if you'd give me a REAL email address we can talk that way.

Catie, Korn, j, I bid you adieu. Thought I'd give you a little thrill for now. Have you clicked on the stats counter at the bottom of the table yet? Oh try it. You can see firsthand how many times you've clicked today. I used to write for a web site that paid me for every click..... man, I'd be rich with you guys following me around if that site were still in business! If only I'd known you then......

Cost of the War in Iraq
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Run, Kitty, Run!

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